Devil's War
by Labrys
Summary: What if Tom Riddle's mother didn't die? What if it was a conspiracy kept a secret? We find an exception student at Hogwarts, infecting the lives of those we know best for the long run. But what happens when she meets her 'long, lost' relatives?
1. Devil's War:Prelude

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any object or person that has been noted as Rowling's, I only note all that is not before seen as mine unless otherwise stated.  
  
**Author's Note:** The Prelude and Chapter one jump a bit in time, and it may be a bit confusing at first to figure out what happened as the time lines don't match, but if you stick this through, you'll understand by the time I'm finished on whose who and what not.  
The title of Devil's War' will soon be seen, as this is in the middle of a war in the making, and essentially, the Dark Lord is the imnbodiment of the Devil in more ways than one.  
  


**Devils War**  
**_Prelude_**  
_Walk softly and carry a big stick'-Roosevelt_  
  


A long, quailing sigh echoed through the room in a most condensing matter. It was feminine in all forms, from the higher octave it carried, to how it was delivered. A slow, wavering exit of thin breath that seemed to sum up every emotion being felt.  
  
Those present in the room glanced at one another in a most suspicious way. They seemed to understand the pain the woman was going through, but they weren't helping. They stood stock still, staring at the helpless woman whose lip quivered at them in a silent mockery of their cowardice.  
  
"Fine," She mumbled, her soft voice wavering as she lifted her chin in defiance. "do what you want with me."  
  
She seemed to despise the words as she said them, she looked as if were ready to wretch even as she said them. She stood her ground though, and said not another word.  
  
"Ms. Firestone," An older man with a receding hair line stepped forward. "you know what we want."  
  
She paused, her dark hair contrasting strongly with her light eyes and pale skin. Her eyes searched his before she lowered her eyes in an effort to save her dignity.  
  
"Yes." She said calmly, her voice average and devoid of any emotion.  
  
"So you agree?" The man asked Ms. Firestone, who hesitated before nodding reluctantly.  
  
"I agree." She said in a clipped tone as she raised her head once again, sending out a hand to steady herself on a nearby chair.  
  
"All right," The man said, turning to a younger, most unapproachable looking man.  
  
"Do you, Ms. Iona Firestone, agree to the association you are condemned of?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Do you agree that this was done with a muggle man?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Do you agree that what will be done, is right and the only way to change your wrong?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Do you agree that the child conceived of your wrongs must be eliminated?"  
  
"Y-Yes." She had stifled a cry at that, and her eyes glimmered with unshed tears.  
  
"Good, you will be confined to St. Mungo's until the delivery. Afterwards, you will forget the child and move on." The man said coldly, turning away and leaving the room, mumbling to himself about 'inefficient witches.'  
  
"Are you all right, Ms. Firestone?" The older man asked, resting a wrinkled hand on her shoulder. The five other men left without a word to her, whispering among themselves.  
  
"Y-yes, I'm fine." She said, wiping at her nose with her sleeve.  
  
"What is it you wish to name your child?" He asked softly, handing her his handkerchief. She greatly took it and dabbed at her eyes.  
  
"Fiona Firestone, if it is a girl." She said, sighing morosely to herself. "And Tom Riddle if it is a boy."  
  
"Why the different surnames?" The man asked, folding the soiled hankerchaif as she handed it back.  
  
"Riddle is-is the muggle man's surname, and he'd-he'd want his boy to be named after him in some way."   
  
**Author's Note:** No, the way these people handled the pregnancy of one Iona Firestone, is not illegal, or wrong--well, they way they think it isn't--and if you haven't already figured that this woman is somehow involved with the Death Eaters, or somehow involved with an individual one, than I suggest you forgo any other attempt at reading this unless you really really want to.   
  
It gets rather confusing, the plot, if you don't read between the lines a lot, their will be a lot of foreshadowing and hinting at many things, but you have to look for them or at least catch a few to understand what I'm trying to convey. The dates, though they may seem totally wrong, are in fact, totally right when our little character finds out the truth about herself.  
  
Yes, this story does involve Severus Snape, and most of the people you know from the story. With the exception of my OC and a few other OC's that are necessary to make this seem as real as possible(you can't carry on a school with about eight students.)  
  
There will be many ships later on, and if you can read between the lines now(Well, the next chapter anyhow), than _bravo!_ I commend you.  
  
Good luck! And please, tell me if you think this story is the stupidest thing you've read since Instruction Manual's included Caution: Do not use while sleeping' for an unknown Blow Dryer.  



	2. Devil's War:Chapter One

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any object or person that has been noted as Rowling's, I only note all that is not before seen as mine unless otherwise stated.  
  
**Author's Note:** Sorry this took me so long, I've been running around trying to get my school work done so I at least get a high GPA. This chapter mainly deals with Fiona's first days at school.**  
  
Devil's War  
_Chapter One_**  
  
_Walk softly and carry a big stick,--Roosevelt_  
  
"Firestone, Fiona." A name called by one Professor McGonagall. A young girl, age eleven, stepped up to the chair. Her black, curled hair pulled into a long braid, her sharp gray eyes watched the hat in interest.  
  
Slipping the faded hat over her eyes, she settled almost immediately into the chair as the soft voice filtered through her ears.  
  
"-most promising." It said, a clicking note to it. "Could be helpful in Ravenclaw, but would undermine the sense of power--Slytherin would develop the power; make it great. Ah, but Gryffindor, Gryffindor could make you a savior. A gold hearted savior of all good, someone to shine through the dark--"  
  
"I don't want to be a savior." The girl said vehemently, nearly snarling at the hat. Who clucked in a motherly sort of way.  
  
"Ah ah," the hat said in a reproving whisper. "mustn't be so harsh. I see you would never fit in with Gryffindor, but they _would_ make you great."  
  
"No, they wouldn't." She said tersely, narrowing her eyes at the inside of the hat.  
  
"Right then, SLYTHERIN." The hat shouted out, as it was slipped off Fiona's head, she could still hear it murmuring about a lost cause. She wasn't a lost cause, she was Fiona, she would make it.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The dormitory wasn't big, but it wasn't small as there were only three of them altogether.  
  
Her, Fiona Firestone, a blonde, pig-tailed girl shorter than herself named Evelyn Chenery.  
  
Luella Underwood was by far the prettiest of the three, and as far as they could tell, the most devious. She stood, smirking at two of them with sharp brown eyes, her hair in straight, long silky waves of honey.  
  
"Well, I think I'll have the bed by the door." She said, her voice was a bit deep, but it captivated both of them. She pulled her trunk to the end of the bed decorated in a lavish emerald green with silver lining. "You'd do well with the middle one, Firestone."  
  
"Right," Fiona said, biting her lip and placing her own trunk at the end of the middle bed. On a chair next to each of their desks, was a green and silver tie, with trousers and skirts laid on the back, a pair of knee-high socks with them, a green and silver scarf laid next to the tie.  
  
"What's our first class?" Evelyn asked shyly, quietly pulling her light trunk to the end of the bed.  
  
"Herbology, of all things." Luella said, snorting in disgust as she pulled her books from the trunk. "As if I'd have any use of plants in my life, bloody useless the lot of them."  
  
They were silent after that as they all arranged their books in their desks, along with parchment and quills. Luella, Fiona found, had a black, slinky cat that she hadn't noticed before.  
  
"Her name is Riley," Luella said, cooing to the cold looking cat, who purred as she rubbed against Luella's leg. "I'm sure she'll like both of you."  
  
Fiona glanced at Evelyn, they both shrugged. Luella didn't sound very confident in her statement.  
  
"Do either of you have a familiar?" She asked noncommittally, as if she were only politely interested.  
  
"No," Evelyn said right off, sitting on her bed and pulling out her Charms book.  
  
"I've never wanted one," Fiona said in distaste, eyeing the cat. "I don't want some animal slobbering all over me."  
  
"Riley doesn't slobber!" Luella snarled, reaching down to pull her cat to her chest. "Cat's are refined creatures, with a cunning that's understated to much. You leave her alone."  
  
"I wasn't insulting it--Riley." Fiona defensively said, her anger flaring. Evelyn cleared her throat behind them, and both girls glared at one another before turning to their beds. "Good-night."  
  
"Good-night." Snapped Luella, while Evelyn whispered it next to her as the candles flickered from life.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
"Class, this is Herbology and I, am Professor Sprout." A dumpy sort of witch said, smiling at them all. Fiona scowled at the purple plant in front of her. "These are Ivy-runners, and no, they aren't the muggle Ivy in any sort. These don't climb walls, they run gardens."  
  
"Run gardens?" Another first year asked, a Gryffindor boy with sandy hair.  
  
"Yes, they tend to be a but tyrannical about it. If you let them into your garden, they decided which plant will flourish, and which will wither and die." Professor Sprout said, looking at each of them. "It isn't necessarily wise to put one in your garden if you fancy it."  
  
A young girl, with flaming red hair and green eyes, raised her hand eagerly.  
  
"Yes, Miss Evans?"  
  
"Is the Ivy-runner like God to the other plants?" She asked, looking at the purpled plant with interest.  
  
"Stupid mud-blood," Luella whispered in her ear. "'God', of all things."  
  
Fiona felt more anger at that, she was a mud-blood. Her father was a wizard, true, but her mother wasn't, and it was her mother who raised her while her father ditched her like a sack of potatoes.  
  
"Right," Fiona murmured, although fire swam in her vision.  
  
"Now, I want you in partners for this," The class immediately started to turn to their newly made friends as a partner, when Professor Sprout's rose above them all. "and I will be picking them."  
  
Fiona didn't know what exactly they were doing, as she missed most of the explanation when she'd been thinking about what Luella had said. So she paid close attention for any hint of what they were doing as Sprout called off names.  
  
"Underwood and Hall," Hall was a scrawny boy with a piggish face and big ears. Luella groaned and reluctantly moved toward the grinning boy.  
  
"Evans and Potter," Evans was the red-headed girl from Gryffindor, and Potter was the dark haired dark eyed good-looking boy with glasses, also from Gryffindor.  
  
"Black and Pettigrew,"  
  
"Lupin and Pearson,"  
  
"Chenery and Bell,"  
  
"Malfoy and Booth,"  
  
"Nott and Avery,"  
  
"Firestone and Snape,"  
  
"Lestrange and Wilkes,"  
  
Fiona looked around, confused. Who was 'Snape'? She'd never heard of him--or her before. When a pasty face suddenly appeared in her line of vision, she was slightly shocked.  
  
In front of her was an over proportioned boy with long arms, big feet and long legs. He was obviously going to be tall when he grew up, but now he was gawky and clumsy on his long legs while the rest of him waited to catch up.  
  
His hair was a silky black went past his ears, and his eyes were a glittering onyx that made her shiver. His nose was entirely to big, and he was shorter than her.  
  
"Hello," He said, eying her as she took a step back. "Severus Snape."  
  
"Er--" Fiona paused, before holding out her hand. "Fiona Firestone."  
  
"All right, what do you know of Ivy?" He asked, turning from her, ignoring her hand, and pulling out a piece of parchment and his quill, sitting on a stool and pushing aside a pot of Ivy-runners.  
  
"What?" She asked, staring at him with wide eyes. He gave her an irritated look, motioning for her to sit.  
  
"I said, what do you know about Ivy?" He repeated, glaring at her through his curtain of hair.  
  
"Well...the muggle Ivy can climb up and down anything, and nearly through everything. It's really tough and really hard to get rid of." She said in a soft voice, she wasn't sure how she was supposed to answer. But as he was writing on the parchment, she must have done something right.  
  
"Is that all?" He asked shortly, dotting his last period on the parchment before glancing at her. Nodding, she leaned her elbows on the table and looked at his curved scrawl. "Well, there are two types of Ivy."  
  
"There is?" She asked, surprised. He gave her an annoyed look before continuing in a dictating tone.  
  
"The poison Ivy, and the regular Ivy that hangs off chimneys. You get a nasty rash from the poison Ivy, it has an oil that rubs off on your skin, or even if you breath it, it's dangerous. Not life threatening, unless you're allergic to it." He said knowingly, Fiona stared at him. He was obviously smart, and he seemed to know it as he jotted down notes as he talked. "But poison Ivy can have benefits, like healing remedies for burns and it's even used as a core for some wands made in Belgium."  
  
"It is?" She asked, feeling completely in the dark on most of this. She suddenly felt very inadequate and out of place, this boy was incredibly smart and well read, but maybe he just knew a lot about Herbology, and not about anything else. Hopefully.  
  
"Yes, don't you read?" He glared at her when she nodded. "Obviously not enough."  
  
"What?" She said, angered that he even dared to insinuate that she was stupid and underdeveloped. "I may not be as smart as you, but I don't read what I don't think I'll need."  
  
"You never know what you might need." He replied calmly, writing more on the parchment. "You probably didn't even know that poison Ivy, if correctly applied, can stop large flesh wounds from infection and excessive bleeding, it could save your life. And if used in certain types of Potions, makes it keep it's potency longer."  
  
Fiona didn't say a word, but glowered at her plant as the boy, Severus, smirked to himself and finished writing as he mumbled to himself everything he knew about both types of Ivy.  
  
At the end of class, he handed her two pieces of filled parchment paper.  
  
"Here, write the essay with these." He turned to go when she stared at him Incredulously.  
  
"I'm not doing your homework," She said angrily. "you seem smart enough, do it yourself."  
  
"It's not my homework," He snarled to her, a glint of humor in his eyes. "it's yours, I've done my half already. All you have to do it write it, and it better be good because this is my grade also."  
  
She felt her cheeks flush as he walked away. She'd forgotten that this was a partner project, and left him to do all the work. Although, if one really thought about it, his work _would_ be better than hers.  
  
Sighing, she leafed through the scrawled papers before stuffing them in her book bag and heading off to her dormitory for her Charms books.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
"Swish and flick!" Squeaked their Charms Professor, who only went to Fiona's waist. He stood upon a stack of books that had been placed on a high back chair in the center of the room.  
  
Fiona bit her lip, and tried to swish and flick, but her wand nearly tumbled from her sweaty fingers.  
  
"Damn," She muttered, tightening her grip on her maple wand before trying again, more forceful. The white feather in front of her quivered for a moment, before it stopped moving.  
  
She looked at Luella, who looked calm as ever, and wasn't even trying to do Wigardium Leviosa. In fact, she was talking to a boy next to her that Fiona recognized as Lestrange.  
  
Scowling, Fiona bared her teeth at the perfect white feather before trying again, this time with more vigor than necessarily needed.  
  
"Watch it!" A snap from behind her, she turned to glare at the person, and found Severus Snape holding the end of her wand, which was inches from his nose. "Don't you know _any_thing?"  
  
"Yes, I do." Fiona snarled, ripping her wand from his fingers and turning back, before she did a double take. In front of him, was a lazily floating feather that seemed to taunt her. She desperately wanted to know how he did it, but refrained from asking. "Show off."  
  
"Show off or not, at least I'm capable of floating a little feather," He sniffed back, just as Flitwick squeaked when he saw Severus's feather.  
  
"Well done Mr. Snape," He clapped his hands together, a wide smile on his face. "see, class, it's possible for your first day. Keep at it."  
  
Mocking him silently, Fiona jabbed at her feather, willing it to fly.  
  
"_Wingar-dium Lev-iosa_," She commanded, glaring at it to float. It didn't, she let out a frustrated growl before she picked it up, fully intending to rip it to shreds.  
  
"If you would at least say it right, and get the wand movements down, you could do it." A steady, gloating voice floated to her.  
  
"I don't care," Fiona said angrily, throwing the feather to the table, it curved in an arch before settling back on the table. "it's useless anyway."  
  
"Try it," Severus said, slipping into the empty seat beside her. "watch."  
  
She watched, he picked up his darker wand and pointed it confidently at the disobedient feather.  
  
"_Wingard-ium Levio-sa._" And with a soft upper handed swish that made him look as if he were conducting a concerto, and a small girlish flick of his wrist, the feather floated into the air, just in-between her eyes.  
  
"Wha--" Fiona stared at the feather, before she reached out and snatched it from the air before eying him suspiciously. "how'd you do that?"  
  
"Just swish and flick, and don't be so angry with it." He said, showing her again how he swished and flicked. Narrowing her eyes, she tried to copy him, and only succeeded in poking herself in the chin because she held her hand to low. "No, no it's like this."  
  
He put his wand in his sleeve, and took hold of her hand. She felt herself flush as he guided her hand through the motions, once he did so she found it was much easier.  
  
"Oh," She said plainly, and attempting to do it afterwards by herself.  
  
"Try it, remember _Wingard-ium Levio-sa._" He pronounced it slowly, in a bored tone.  
  
"_Wingard-ium Levio-sa_." Her voice shaky, and her wand was a bit stiff as she went through the motions, but the feather rose, albeit a bit shakily, but it rose.  
  
Fiona smiled wildly, her eyes glittering as she lowered her wand, the feather floating in lazy circles.  
  
"Thanks," She mumbled, her ears turning red as her cheeks hurt from smiling. She could do it, she was only trying to hard. It was easy, she could do it.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Fiona stepped outside of Hogwarts, and into the flying training grounds, a large grassy plain that over looked the Quidditch field.  
  
In front of her, a line of brooms was held and a young looking witch stood in front of them all.  
  
"Line up," She said in a stern voice, though her black hair stood in spikes from her head and her odd yellow eyes stared at them all expectantly.  
  
They obediently lined up, she ended up standing next to Evelyn and the boy named Wilkes.  
  
"Now, for this flying lesson I want all of you to hold your hand over your brooms handle, and say _Up!_" She commanded them, folding her arms as they all did as she said.  
  
First off, the boy Potter had his broom in his hand. Scowling, Fiona tried harder and finally her broom zoomed into her hand on the third try. Smiling triumphantly, she held it close to her.  
  
"Finally, something you don't need help in." Severus said from across the line she was in.  
  
"Shut up," Though she said it in a friendly sort of way, she'd meant it to be mean. A moment later, she found that he had his broom in his hand as well.  
  
"Now class, I want you to mount your brooms, and kick off when I blow the whistle, only hovering please." Professor Hooch said, staring pointedly at Malfoy, who had a decidedly mischievous grin on his face. "One, two, three--"  
  
The whistle blew, and it seemed to whole class was in a race to see who could hover the fastest. Potter ended up first, Severus a close second, and herself third.  
  
Smiling to herself, Fiona listened carefully as Hooch described the controls of a broom. This was fun, this was something she could do on her own, it was something she was good at.   
  
**Author's Note:** So you've gotten this far? Well, review please and tell me how to make it better, or if I've made any mistakes. I don't think I have, but if you have any questions, ask and I'll answer most likely.  
  
Oh, and the Herbology being given to the First years instead of the Second years, I've decided that they probably did that back then, and had recently decided that Herbology is more for Second years and above.


End file.
